Destinations

We didn't plan to stop in Albuquerque. A trailer breakdown left us at Isleta Lakes RV Park for two weeks we never intended to spend, and it turned into one of the stops we're most glad happened to us.

We left Albuquerque in March, stopping a night or two here and there, before we landed in Forney, Texas, to visit family.

We came for dry air and a warm winter and found a river town that reveals itself slowly.

We came to Scofield for a ranch project in the mountains above town and ended up staying a month, tucked into a cool, quiet corner of central Utah that most travelers never find.

We pulled into Gold Beach in late October, during the off-season, and stayed five weeks. It was one of the top places we researched before going full-time, and this stay left us thinking it could be home one day.

We planned a week in Crescent City for Thanksgiving with family. We stayed almost a month, pulled in by quiet beaches, close redwoods, and a coast that felt calmer than the town's noisier edges let on.

We landed in Sekiu almost by accident after our plans for Forks fell through, and ended up staying six weeks on the edge of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It turned out to be one of the best surprises of the trip.

After five moves in twelve days, we stopped in Forks and found eleven days of rainforest, tide pools, and the rugged coastline of La Push, our base camp for exploring the Olympic Peninsula.

We came to Astoria for a family reunion and stayed inside Fort Stevens State Park, close enough to join in but quiet enough for Hyrum to stay regulated. We kept coming back, and two weeks later we still hadn't seen enough of it.

A quick overnight on the way to a family reunion turned into ten days beside Skate Creek. Packwood gave our family a creekside reset in the shadow of Mount Rainier.

A full month in Seeley Lake taught us that home is built through service, shared meals, and people who make space for you. A small Montana town that gave us far more than we expected.

A quiet canyon campground along the river gave us the perfect base to slow-explore Glacier National Park, from the Going-to-the-Sun Road to a family float down the Flathead, without staying inside the busiest corridors.

Our first stop outside Utah put us in a dispersed site along Cabin Creek, ten feet from the water, with the Sawtooths rising straight up behind us. It's the kind of quiet that met our family exactly where it needed to.

A storm turned Tom's Best Road into a sinkhole within minutes of arriving, and the week that followed became one of our favorite southern Utah stays, quiet camp nights split between Tropic and Bryce Canyon City.

A packed-campground scramble turned into our favorite kind of surprise: a quiet creekside boondocking spot in Virgin, twenty minutes from Zion, that gave our son room to settle and gave us three unhurried weeks in the park.

We picked Hurricane for a new RV resort with a water park built in. Sand Hollow and Grandpa's Pond delivered, but a resort that busy taught us something important about what our son actually needs.

We landed in St. George out of necessity more than adventure, and 3.5 months later it had quietly become the winter basecamp that helped us find our footing, our rhythm, and the courage for what came next.